


Sleeping Lessons

by thismagichour



Series: Sometimes I Still Feel The Bruise: critrole rsweek 2018 [6]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 04:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15065342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thismagichour/pseuds/thismagichour
Summary: Fjord and Caleb both have bad dreams. They help each other. And they start to become a little more. A final (incredibly belated) piece for critrole rs week!





	Sleeping Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> [frodo baggins voice] It's over. It's done! 
> 
> It's also incredibly late!!! But it's here and we all can take a nap. This fic revolves around this recent discovery that Fjord is.....incredibly awkward in the face of relationships. I normally write strictly from Caleb's perspective, so I tried to focus more on Fjord in this mess. I made Caleb just a little less shattered than he actually is, with the assumption that he is, very slowly, starting to heal. Let me know what you think, I'm not sure how I feel about it yet.
> 
> No beta, we typo like men, I guess. Content warning for a brief mention of excoriation (skin picking) and a very very light dubcon for the very end when they're both trying to be something they're not. They figure it out.

Caleb is on watch when Fjord wakes up panting. Well, Caleb and Nott are both on watch, but Nott had nodded off and Caleb had let her sleep. She had been bloodied pretty badly, but she refused to let Caleb take the watch alone. When she fell asleep, her head on Caleb’s shoulder, he simply moved her head to rest on his leg so she would be more comfortable. So when Fjord wakes up, his breaths loud and shuddering in the quiet night air, Caleb notices. Caleb slowly moves Nott so she is laying on one of his books, and walks over to Fjord’s bedroll, where he is sitting upright, arms clasped around himself, still breathing heavily.

“Fjord, are you alright?” Caleb says, staying a good distance from him, so as not to crowd him.

“What?” Fjord says, and his head snaps up to look at Caleb. “Ah, Caleb, yeah, I’m fine, I just had a bit of a bad dream, that’s all.”

“You have those a lot,” Caleb says. Fjord looks at him steadily.

“Sometimes,” Fjord says, with a bit of an edge.

“I do not mean to insult, I understand about bad dreams,” Caleb says, shuffling the tiniest bit closer, “I only mean to say that it is okay to not be fine, sometimes.”

“Not to me,” Fjord says, with a tense smile. Every bit of Caleb wants to leave Fjord alone, but he does not think that is what Fjord needs. He moves closer, sits with his legs criss crossed a few feet from Fjord. He is lucky that Fjord tends to separate from the group a bit when they all camp out, but perhaps that is by Fjord’s design. It had never struck Caleb as off before, but it does now.

“When I had bad dreams, my mother,” Caleb’s throat closes around the word, but he presses on, “she would sing lullabies. I always asked her to sing _Guten Abend, gute Nacht_. Did you have a favorite as a child?” Fjord continues to look at him, but not as steadily now. Fjord drops his eyes for a moment before he forces his chin back up. With a smile that leans more towards a grimace, Fjord shakes his head silently.

“My mother hated the song, I think, because I asked her to sing it so much. Long past the age of it being acceptable to need a lullaby to sleep at night,” Caleb says, his eyes cast downward.

“I don’t know that one,” Fjord says.

“You will recognize it, I think, it is very popular. I think there is a Common translation, but I do not remember it,” Caleb says. “In Zemnian, it is _Guten Abend, gut’ Nacht, mit Rosen bedacht?_ Do you know it?”

“Can’t say that I do,” Fjord says, shifting uncomfortably, “I should probably get back to sleep now.”

“I can stay here, if you want, to keep you company while you sleep,” Caleb says, “I have a few more hours on watch and maybe I will keep the dreams away.”

“That’s alright,” Fjord says, “I’ve gotten quite good at sleeping alone.”

“You do not have to do that either, if you do not want,” Caleb says quietly, but leaves Fjord be, and returns to Nott. As Fjord lays back down to sleep, he can hear Caleb quietly humming the melody of the lullaby as he strokes Nott’s hair. Fjord watches him for a minute, feeling sorry for himself, and turns over to go back to sleep, but not without washing the taste of salt water out of his mouth first.

 

Fjord and Yasha are on watch when Caleb starts talking in his sleep. It starts out quiet, only loud enough for Fjord to barely register it, but it keeps escalating. Fjord gestures for Yasha to stay where she is, and he goes and shakes Caleb’s shoulder. Caleb sits up with a cry. Fjord makes an aborted hushing noise, glancing around at the rest of the group, but no one seems tohave stirred. Caleb has pressed his fist against his mouth, and seems to be holding his breath. Fjord places his hands firmly on Caleb’s shoulders.

“You alright?” Fjord says lowly. Caleb nods frantically. Fjord lets him go and rejoins Yasha, turning his back to Caleb and the rest of the sleeping party. After a few seconds, however, Yasha tenses, and turns her head back around to the group. Fjord listens, and hears what Yasha caught before him - Caleb is crying. He’s doing that kind of heartbroken sobbing you do at night when you’re trying to keep quiet, silence followed by deep gasping. Yasha raises her eyebrows at Fjord.

“He said he was fine,” Fjord says under his breath.

“Sounds like it,” Yasha says, lightly, turning back to the darkness. They sit there together for a few moments, Caleb the only sound breaking the silence. Finally, Fjord gets to his feet and walks back to him. Fjord kneels down next to him, careful not to disturb Nott, who is within arm reach of Caleb.

“Do you want me to wake up Nott?” Fjord says, quietly. Caleb shakes his head, his eyes wet. Fjord reaches his hand out carefully towards him, and when Caleb doesn’t react either way, Fjord pats his shoulder. That really sets Caleb off, apparently, who begins to cry again in earnest, despite him appearing to want to do anything else. 

“Hey, no, don’t do that, shhh, come on,” Fjord says, looking back at Yasha, who mouths “pat pat” at him. Fjord makes an incredulous face at her, but he sighs and pulls Caleb into him. Caleb breathes heavily against his neck. Fjord isn’t really the touchiest guy in the world, in fact, people tend to give him a pretty wide berth. He hasn’t had someone this close to him in years, with the exception of Jester, who does it because she has no sense of personal space and she likes flustering him. 

“I am sorry,” Caleb manages, pulling away from Fjord to look at him. His eyes are red rimmed, which really emphasizes the color of them. Fjord’s struck by it suddenly, how close they are and how blue Caleb’s eyes are and what someone else would think if they were looking at them right now, and Fjord pulls away, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Don’t apologize,” Fjord says, gruffly. “Just try to get some sleep.” Caleb’s lips pull up into a forced smile that is gone as quick as it came. Caleb lays down, turning away from Fjord, and Fjord watches him for a moment.

“What was that song you were singing the other night?” Fjord says. “ _Guten Abend_ …” He knows he’s butchering the accent, and he’s not even sure of the melody. He fades off into silence. After a long pause, Caleb picks it up.

“G _ut’ Nacht, mit Rosen bedacht, mit Näglein besteckt, schlupf unter die Deck-”_ As he sings, slightly off-key from crying, Yasha quietly picks up with him, in Celestial. Caleb doesn’t falter for a moment. Fjord notices one of Nott’s ears perk up. He looks down at her, and she smiles slightly at him, before scrunching her eyes shut and doing a very bad job of pretending she’s asleep. When Caleb trails off, Yasha does too.

“I didn’t know you knew that song,” Fjord says, when he’s sure Caleb’s asleep.

“It’s a very common song,” Yasha says. “It’s been translated into almost every language. Do you not know it?”

“Nope, sure don’t,” Fjord says. They sit in silence for the rest of the watch.

 

“We gotta stop meeting like this,” Fjord says, the third time he wakes from a saltwater dream with Caleb sitting next to him.

“I can leave you alone, if you wish,” Caleb says. He appears to have been sitting by Fjord for quite some time, as his books and ink are all laid out beside him, a quill still in one hand.

“I wasn’t saying that,” Fjord says.

“You were wishing for the dreams to subside,” Caleb says. He goes back to scribing whatever it was he was before.

“I wasn’t saying that either,” Fjord says.

“What are you saying, then?” Caleb asks, dipping his quill, glancing up at Fjord briefly.

“Not much, apparently,” Fjord says.

 

“Thank you for not letting me wake the others,” Caleb says, the fifth time he wakes with Fjord’s hand keeping him from going up in smoke. Fjord has taken to sitting with him the way that Caleb has. When Caleb sets his bedroll now, he always makes sure to be on the edge of the group, with Nott on one side of him, of course.

“The least I could do,” Fjord says.

“You are the only one who does not ask,” Caleb says, “why is that?”

“Because I’m not talking about my dreams with you, either,” Fjord says, evenly. Caleb can see the beginnings of his tusks growing back out.

“I do not understand you at all,” Caleb says, squinting at him.

“What’s to get?” Fjord says. “I’m just Fjord.”

“I am certain that is not true,” Caleb says.

 

“Okay, so Molly and Jester are taking first watch, then I’ll take watch with Yasha, and then Caleb can take watch with Fjord,” Beau says.

“No,” Caleb and Fjord protest simultaneously.

“Oh no, do you two not like each other anymore?” Jester says.

“No, it isn’t that,” Fjord says, glancing sidelong at Caleb.

“You two HAVE to make up,” Jester says.

“We are not fighting,” Caleb says, grimacing at Fjord.

“So it’s decided, Fjord and Caleb are on last watch,” Beau says.

“I could take watch with Caleb,” Nott says.

“It’s already been decided, Nott,” Jester says pointedly.

“Oh right, sure,” Nott says, looking between Caleb and Fjord, who are doing everything they can to not look at each other.

 

Most of the watch is spent in silence. They sit next to each other, not quite touching, Fjord unthinkingly summoning and dismissing the falchion, Caleb fiddling with his transmutation stone. The night seems quiet. Caleb mutters something in Zemnian in frustration, and sets the stone aside. Fjord is hyper aware of Caleb’s presence, the warmth coming off his body, and he shifts a little farther away. 

“I must confess something to you, Fjord,” Caleb says, suddenly, “because I have not been honest in my dealings with you, and ah, I am afraid you will resent me for it.”

“Alright,” Fjord says, after a pause.

“As you know, you are very attractive, everyone thinks so,” Caleb says, “and I must admit that I also find you to be very uh, good looking. I have not done anything strictly for this reason, but it does color our interactions and it is possible you already know.”

“I, uh, wow. I sure did not know,” Fjord says.

“That is all,” Caleb says. He looks down at his hands, examines them idly. Fjord has never noticed how thin and delicate Caleb’s hands are. Fjord’s own hands look thick and clumsy by comparison; years of sailing have done a number on them. Caleb picks at his cuticles, clearly an old habit, as his index finger starts bleeding as soon as he pulls at it. Fjord reaches out his scarred hand to cover both of Caleb’s own, simply to keep him from hurting himself. Both of them freeze at the movement.

“Sorry,” Fjord says, but he doesn’t move. Caleb isn’t looking at him. As Fjord stares at him, Caleb just continues to stare at their hands. 

“I am… not sure what I’m doing,” Caleb says, eventually.

“There’s a lot of that going around,” Fjord says, and forces himself to smile. Caleb still isn’t looking with him.

“I think I would like to kiss you,” Caleb says.

“Alright,” Fjord says.

“I may be bad at it,” Caleb says.

“Alright,” Fjord says.

“You are more experienced in these things than I am,” Caleb says.

“Well,” Fjord says.

Fjord hates this. He knows that he’s grown into himself, he knows people think he’s attractive, and he’s chosen this accent specifically because he knows it’s endearing. Without his teeth he hardly even gets second looks for his bloodline. But even now, even nearly half a lifetime later, he feels like that overweight kid with big ugly tusks is standing in the shadow of this body. He feels the heat rise in his face under the weight of Caleb’s gaze, and he wishes that maybe he hadn’t gotten so much taller, that his shoulders were less broad. He does his best to stay trim, to be less imposing, to be _less_ , but the blood comes through, always. He’s done his utmost to be able to smile and charm under the predatory gaze of shopkeeps and barmaids, but when it comes to this, this point, where he’s supposed to be some lothario, he’s never been able to fake this part. He wishes he could.

“I think that maybe you are as lost as I am,” Caleb murmurs.

“What gave it away?” Fjord says dryly.

“I truly do not understand you at all,” Caleb says.

“I try to keep it that way,” Fjord says.

“I would like to figure you out,” Caleb says. 

“I’d let you,” Fjord says, and Caleb couldn’t possibly understand what a concession that is. Fjord is a box of broken things and he tries to keep the lid on that shut well and tight. But, he reasons, Caleb already sees him at the closest to his worst that anyone could, and seems to like him despite that. It could be interesting, at the very least - an experiment in how much he can show to someone before they have to flinch away. No one has ever known him, before. He likes to pretend that the men on the ship knew the real him, that Vandrin had, but they had only seen him at his best. Or, at least, at the best he could be at the time. Caleb is…something else. Caleb and he have a lot in common. Caleb is making very quick strides in learning the functions of the group and fitting himself into his slot neatly. Yes, it had taken a lot more friction for him, but Caleb is certainly learning on a much quicker and steeper curve than the rest of them. Caleb is clever. Is he clever enough, Fjord wonders.

“You are making a face. What does it mean?” Caleb says, reaching out on hand gently to touch the side of Fjord’s smile.

“It means you can kiss me now, if you like,” Fjord says. 

“That is not what it means,” Caleb says steadily, “but I will take the invitation for what it is.” With that, Caleb leans in. When Caleb presses his lips to Fjord’s, Fjord lights up. There is a painful thump in his chest as his heart desperately tries to contend with what’s happening to him. All of Fjord’s hair stands up, the breath catches in his throat, his adrenaline sends his whole body trembling. When Caleb pulls away, Caleb looks entirely too steady. Fjord knows how he must look, wide eyes and dark green cheeks. He hadn’t planned for this. He is on entirely uneven ground. He doesn’t even know what to say, which may be a first.

“It has been a very long time since I have done that,” Caleb says.

“Likewise,” Fjord says, breathless.

“Our watch is almost over, we should perhaps put a hold on this until tomorrow night so that the others do not make a spectacle,” Caleb says.

“That is a very wise idea,” Fjord says, and kisses him again. When Jester wakes up to catch them kissing and shrieks with joy, they are thoroughly outed to the party.

 

“Caleb, can I trouble you for a favor?” Fjord asks him, a few days later.

“Of course, Fjord, feel free to ask me whatever you wish,” Caleb says.

“Would you stay with me tonight?” Fjord says. There is a pause from Caleb, barely there, but enough for Fjord to regret all of his life choices before Caleb take a sharp breath and nods once.

“Ja, okay,” Caleb says.

“You don’t have to,” Fjord says, “I just figured, you know, we’re in a town for once, we’ll have rooms, Molly won’t mind bunking elsewhere, and -“

“Fjord, I have said yes,” Caleb says.

“Right, sure, yeah, great,” Fjord says, and then shuts the hell up.

 

When everyone retires for the night (with a lot of eyebrow raising from Jester and Nott both), Fjord and Caleb stare at each other in the doorway of their room. Caleb finds himself genuinely smiling, just a bit, at the absolute fear in Fjord’s eyes. They have faced so many foes together, giants and oozes and monsters beyond all compare, but the idea of a romantic entanglement with Caleb has him sweating. Maybe that is wisdom. Caleb has been trying to sand his edges for many months now, he still knows that he can cut deep. He knows he does not deserve what Fjord is offering, but he is also selfish and will take what he is given anyway. He can hate himself for it later. He wonders how Fjord, beautiful, charismatic Fjord, has come to this point of his life with so little experience. Caleb knows for a fact that a good three-fourths of the people who look at Fjord want to sleep with him. How Caleb can be the first, or possibly second, at best third, that Fjord has wanted to be entangled with?

Caleb decides to take mercy on him. It has been a long time, but it does not feel that long. The ache that Astrid left in her wake is still there, but it has very little power over him, these days. Caleb walks into his (their) room, and shrugs out of his coat. He lays the coat on the chair, and toes out of his shoes. He leaves his back turned to Fjord. As he begins to fiddle with the straps for his holsters, he feels Fjord step behind him.

“May I?” Fjord says, and touches the straps lightly. Caleb nods, does not look at him, for both of their sakes, and lifts his arms so that Fjord can deftly unhook him. He can feel Fjord’s hands shaking, just a little, but he is good with the straps. When Fjord has him undone, Caleb shrugs out of them, and turns to Fjord, who now holds his books in gentle hands. Caleb smiles again, and relieves Fjord of his books. He sets them down on the chair as well, and turns back. Fjord seems to realize that he’s still holding his hands out, and puts them by his sides abruptly. Caleb takes them.

“May I?” Caleb says, and Fjord grins at the tease before nodding. Caleb kisses him, Fjord gives under him easily. Fjord is so tentative when he kisses, Caleb finds himself pushing into it, helpless to stop. He is unsure if Fjord is hesitant from inexperience, or an awareness of the newly growing tusks. Caleb appreciates the irony of them both being sharp things. Fjord tangles his hands in Caleb’s hair, and Caleb places his hands on Fjord’s hips, pulling him in. When their hips touch, however, Fjord jumps away as if he’s been shocked.

“Sorry, I uh, sorry,” Fjord says, tongue tied. Fjord looks at the few feet of space between them now as if he is unsure how it got there.

“No, I understand, we can go slow,” Caleb says.

“No! No, I invited you to my room, I don’t want slow, I just uh, need a minute, that’s all.” Fjord paces the room, hands on his head. Caleb stays where he is.

“Fjord-”

“I’m cool, I’m fine,” Fjord says, sounding anything but, and then course correcting, “I’m good, Caleb. Didn’t mean to freak out on you there. Come here.” Fjord gestures to him, and Caleb steps toward him, but leaves a space still between them. Fjord crosses it, pulls Caleb’s hips to his again, closes his eyes.

“Fjord-” Caleb says, but Fjord stops him with his mouth. Caleb can feel him shaking again, but even worse than before. 

“Fjord,” Caleb tries again, but Fjord doesn’t let him continue. Fjord tugs his hair gently, in a way that Caleb likes very much. Caleb hisses, and he can feel Fjord’s grin against his mouth.

“ _Fjord_ ,” Caleb says, and pushes him back.

“What?” Fjord says, breathless, grinning. He is so beautiful like this. Caleb is tempted to let it lie, to take what he is so close to, but he sees the mania just behind Fjord’s eyes, and he knows better than anyone what that feels like.

“I appreciate what you are trying to do,” Caleb starts.

“Then what’s the problem? Come on,” Fjord says, and steps into him again.

“Fjord, _stop_ ,” Caleb says firmly, and Fjord freezes, the grin dropping from his face. “I appreciate what you are trying to do, but I do not think you are ready. And,” he pushes through as Fjord begins to protest, “I do not think I am either. There was a girl, a long time ago, and that is the long and short of my experience. I assume you are not much better. If what you want is to gets your rocks off, to get it out of the way, then you can find someone else to do it with. I am sure it will not be difficult for you to find someone.”

“I don’t want someone else,” Fjord says, softly.

“Then I would like to lay here with you tonight, and sleep. And in the future, perhaps, we can figure out what we are doing with other things.” Caleb says.

“You sure are smarter than me,” Fjord says, dropping his head. Caleb takes his hands again, kisses the knuckles on each. He feels the sharp breath Fjord lets out.

“I am just more broken,” Caleb says. “Will you come to bed with me?”

“Course I will,” Fjord says. “Will you sing for me?”

“I am beginning to understand why my mother hated that song,” Caleb says wryly. When Fjord falls asleep, it’s to Caleb humming the simple melody into the warm skin of his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Gee, Monica, why do you always have a very blunt love confession? Because I don't have the time to write slowburn which this would otherwise necessitate! We'll do it someday, but it is not this day.
> 
> catch me @calebwidogasts on tumblr!


End file.
